


Turn, and Turnabout

by Carmilla



Category: Lost Boys (Movies)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-18
Updated: 2006-12-18
Packaged: 2018-01-25 05:32:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1634108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmilla/pseuds/Carmilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They all of them hunger.  David/Michael/Star, in various combinations.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Turn, and Turnabout

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my darling Emerald Embers for the quick beta!
> 
> Written for Ignaz Wisdom

 

 

There's an unfamiliar tang in David's nostrils as he enters Star's room. She's sprawled across her bed, eyes closed, face slack enough that her lips are slightly parted. Not asleep; he can tell by the rise and fall of her chest that her breathing's all wrong. But she's doing a much better job of pretending than she used to.

Playing along, he starts at the foot of the bed and wakes her up inch by inch, playfully nipping her ankles, running his hands up her calves, dipping his tongue into the crease of her slightly crooked knee. The scent that's bothered him since he entered the room is stronger here, but it's only when he reaches the curve of her breast that he realises he's smelling Michael on her. He muffles his smile in a mouthful of her soft flesh, running his tongue almost absently over her nipple as he considers the situation.  
Inevitable, really. In honesty, he's impressed with her quick work; and it will make his own seduction of the boy all the easier, in the long run. Idly, he wonders what she told him, and how much of it he believed. Did she play the desperate adulteress, pleading `David must never know?' Yeah, Michael would have lapped that up. But she's too smart to believe it. She hasn't changed the sheets; hasn't even washed. She _wants_ him to know.

He's curled up against her back, now, and gently pushes inside her, acknowledged only by a sharply indrawn breath. His hands gently tease her as his mind wanders.

The scent clinging to the sheets from her previous coupling is quite gratifying, he decides. Human, but not _quite_ human; there's just the beginnings of the earthier, muskier odour that belongs to his brothers, and to himself. Half-made vampires appeal to him in that way - it was why he'd allowed Star to stay as she was for so long. The mix of traits, the faint pull of blood kinship along with the vulnerability of a mortal, the ability to be simultaneously fellow hunter and prey; it was intoxicating.

All the same, he knows what needed to be done. He has to turn Michael - and Star too, eventually. He smiles against the round of her shoulder, thrusts a little deeper, his arm tightening across her stomach. Eventually. But not just yet.

~

Star smells different to any woman Michael's ever been with before, and he can't get enough of it. He's buried inside her, face muffled in the crook of her neck, and still he wants it harder, deeper, closer, _more_. He's inhaling her by the lungful, gripping her shoulders tight enough that by rights he ought to leave bruises, his tongue tracing random patterns on the sensitive skin of her neck. He'd bitten her there, earlier in the evening, and some strange instinct had forced his teeth together harder than he'd meant, and for a second she'd looked at him with something like fear.

He'd tried to restrain himself a little, after that.

Oh, but there's little thought of restraint now; she's making low, encouraging noises in the back of her throat, and his lips are pressed so close against her that he can feel them, practically _taste_ them. Her legs are wrapped tight around his waist, heels digging into his buttocks, spurring him on; he can feel the muscles in her stomach push up against him as she breathes, quick and shallow.

And her scent is everywhere, enveloping him, containing him. It's rich and warm and heavy, not sweet but satisfying. He imagines that somehow he can smell more than her skin; that he's inhaling her very blood and bones.

His orgasm catches him by surprise, his hips jerking spasmodically, entirely of their own volition. She sighs and pulls him close against her, petting the hair on the back of his neck and muttering endearments he can't catch, and isn't meant to.

He feels strange, spent and yet unsated. There's still a hunger curled deep in his gut, his body still craving, still seeking some further release. Star pulls him down for a lazy kiss; he decides not to worry about it for the moment.

~

Michael smells of fear. David can almost taste it from where he's standing, some three feet away, it's so powerful. But the fear's not all for him - most of it's for what Michael can feel rising in himself, the hunger so all-consuming he feels it in his marrow, projects it through his eyes. David smiles to see that, an outward and visible sign of the Change. He closes the space between them in less than a second, and he can see the tension in Michael's torso, his shoulders, but when David pulls him close he doesn't fight him. He's wanting; he's weak. The sight of the gang feeding has left him so needy he doesn't even know what he needs. Which is maybe why he resists so little when David starts to kiss him, fiercely. He sags for a half second in what may be relief; if it is, it disappears abruptly when David forces his tongue, still slick with blood, between his lips.

Maybe Michael wants to refuse him, but David knows this game far too well, has played it too many times; the taste of blood won't be enough to turn the boy, but it will make him wild. Michael's hand grasps the back of his neck as he sucks on his tongue almost ardently, making small, keening noises in the back of his throat. David's backed him up against a tree by this point, pressing him mercilessly against the flat surface, shoving their bodies still closer together.

The gang are done with their feast, and begin to gather closer, one or two snickering or calling out mocking words of encouragement. David whips around and snarls at them, and they know enough to take to the air without arguing the point. He turns back again.

Michael is sagging against the tree, his eyes no longer red but merely glazed, his breathing laboured. The hunger's on him still, though; David can sense it.

Pressing home his advantage, he crushes his mouth to Michael's again, fumbling awkwardly to get his belt open. When it comes to the fastenings of his jeans, he loses patience, and simply rips them open, feeling a button pop from the fabric as he does so. Then he's reaching inside, and Michael's already hard, and he hisses when David's hand closes around him in something that's like pain, but isn't. David works him fiercely, provoking a series of throaty moans, and when he shoves two fingers between Michael's teeth to quiet him, Michael bites down, hard enough to draw blood, and comes all over his hand.

David licks his fingers as he watches Michael slump bonelessly to the ground. He likes this one, he's decided. And he's happier to share Star with him than with any of the others....

Deciding how he wants to spend the rest of the night, he grabs Michael by the collar, and swoops away.

~

Star's mouth is full of bitterness, salt sweat and come. But she's smiling, slightly, as she watches the sleeping bodies on either side of her, her hand tangled in Michael's hair.

Somehow, it never ceases to surprise her how predictable men could be, how vulnerable to the simplest of manipulations. But she can't afford to rely on it, especially not with David. Michael hasn't turned tonight, but it may only be a matter of time; David can be very persuasive. She'll have to choose between them, and soon.

David mutters something, his arm closing around her waist, and Michael turns his head to press his lips against her palm. David's skin is pleasantly cool, and Michael's warm breath is a caress on her wrist. Her smile deepens a little.

Soon, but not just yet.

END

 


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